Seven Deadly Sins
by panini999
Summary: Manhattan's elite must know a sin when they see one. Everyone should. The problem with our specific bunch is: do they know how to be good little angels? Do they even give a damn to try? Ha. I didn't think so. -XoXo Gossip Girl
1. Lust

Disclaimer: No ownership

Based on the seven deadly sins and my own boredom/creativity, here comes-

**Sin one:**

* * *

**Lust**

* * *

_Remember kiddies: Lust looks not with the mind, but with the eyes._

_And that means one thing._

_Chuck Bass has twenty-twenty vision._

* * *

Seeing her wasn't enough. Talking to her, that was barely enough.

He wanted to be with her.

He wanted to touch her.

He just wanted her.

There were days when he would just… when he wanted so badly to pay someone to knock his best friend's sorry-assed face off. But he wouldn't do it, because he was too much of a… an asset, to him. He couldn't lose his friendship at this time. Even for the straight-laced girl he could picture so damn vividly with a pole…

So he waited. He waited for his chance to strike.

And, oh, did he strike.

One night. One night alone with her in a strip club was all he needed. That night, they went back to the limo. That night, on the seat of his limo, in the wake of his financial success, right after she strip-teased for him, he took her.

Maybe she felt pressured. Maybe she was getting revenge on his friend and her boyfriend. Maybe she was just too damn drunk to care. He asked her so many times: "Are you sure?" Always he asked. He didn't know why… it just… felt right to.

But she always answered with a kiss.

And that night, that night, he—not her boyfriend—had finally de-flowered the famous Virgin-Queen of Constance.

And after that night…

After that night… it was remarkable and horrible and wonderful and stupid at the same time.

He still wanted her.

He _wanted_ her. He knew it. Her scent sent chills up his spine whenever he used his now-favorite limo. And he'd be reminded of her legs entangled with his on the leather seats, her hair splashing his face, her designer clothes lying forgotten on the carpet floor, her lips kissing every inch of his skin...

And he wanted it again, because he just _had _to have her.

He couldn't see it any other way.

Chuck and Blair. Blair and Chuck.

In his limo, seated and smelling and inhaling every single last drop of her scent, Chuck Bass smirks at the challenge.

Let the chase begin.

* * *

_Poor, poor Bass. Must he always get the short end of the stick?_

_Lust never did fail to bring entertainment to the room. And I for one love it, just for that._

* * *

**_XoXo- Gossip Girl_**


	2. Envy

Disclaimer: No ownership

**Sin two:**

* * *

**Envy**

* * *

_Jealousy is nothing more than feeling alone against smiling enemies_

_As iron is eaten by rust, so is the teenager eaten by envy_

_One specific teenager is suffering the nibbles right now _

* * *

She looks at her mirror, thankful that it's way past midnight because she couldn't see anything in the reflection. Just as well. She hated her… her. She hates herself.

When she keeps staring, she suddenly gets mad.

What. The. Bitch.

Why her? Why should she be the one choosing in a lose-lose situation?

What do they have that she doesn't? As in, like, if anything, _she _was the normal one. The good one. The non-evil, non-sinister, non-bitchy one.

But _they _still ruled.

What was _up _with _that_?

She shakes her head, as if to clear it.

Well.

She guessed it could be just because they were… pretty. Beautiful even.

That little, inconsequential thing that made everything so right in the world for some, could be down-right hell for any others.

She doesn't even want to look at herself now. When she does, she gets so… so _furious_.

Her hair never falls in quite the way she wants it to. Her clothes and body are never 'picture-perfect' like the ones the magazine models portray—or the majority of the girls in high school. She wakes up in the morning feeling energized, _alive_. Almost happy.

Then she remembers who she is and who she's not and she just feels so… worn.

It's eating her alive. She doesn't know what exactly, but she _feels_ it. Inside her_, _taking over. It's like a—a gnawing. Or a tear—a rip.

Moonlight streaming through her curtained window, with its shimmering silver hitting her mirror stand, it makes her have no choice but to see her own face. She doesn't want to—she can't stand her own face, not naturally at least—but her eyes glimpses her profile on their own accord.

Same old same old. With no makeup, no protection, she can hardly stomach the way her cheeks seem too full, how her lips seem too thin. She can only pray for Blair's body—with all the curves at the right places, all the poise and self-confidence and pride—and she wants so badly for Serena's hair, but hers doesn't behave—and nowhere near looks—the same way. Her hair is in a jumbled ponytail, with strands of that pale yucky color standing up from the damn static her pillows gave, and her eyes are naked and she hates it.

She stares until… there.

Tears. They fall in little droplets at first, until they transform into streams and she's sobbing with her shoulders hunched and the pillow on her lap was soaking.

It was pathetic, and she knows it. Pathetic, useless, degrading, humiliating, devastating, mortifying—

But it doesn't matter. She'll cry or rant or vent to get over it—and even if she never really does, she can still _pretend_ she got over it, right?—and she'll tie up the Jenny she's seeing now and lock her in her place. Deep inside. Where no one could ever possibly find her. She'll make sure of it.

And outside—out in the real world…

She'll just stand still. Act nice. Try to look pretty.

She'll hide it for just a little longer.

She'll wait till jealousy takes its course.

* * *

_Envy doesn't look good on anybody, girlies—probably why JJ is packing it heavy with the makeup now._

_But it doesn't __matter._

_Everyone knows they can't hide their true colors for long. Not even CoverGirl can save the Humphrey youngster now._

* * *

_**XoXo- Gossip Girl**_


End file.
